


Shoot then Aim

by orphan_account



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drabble, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Other, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, i mean i guess but these are just drabbles sooooo, idk - Freeform, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My collection of drabbles!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! I recently took a look at all of the incomplete drabbles I have written so I've decided to put my copious amounts of free time to good use. This is a drabble collection where I will be writing and posting all of the drabbles I write from here on out. I will be accepting prompts [here](http://laurel-fxcing-lance.tumblr.com/) '
> 
> (I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't mind sharing this)

 

Oliver Queen was never a thinker. He acted purely on impulse and never thought about consequences because he was Oliver Queen and Mommy and Daddy Queen would come to the rescue. They could always buy, threaten, or scare, anyone into letting whatever huge fuckup he made slide without a word of it getting to the press. Of course sometimes details got out, and well Moira Queen was a very scary woman and most often the person responsible would feel compelled to run for the hills and not look back. But that was all before the island. 

The island changed him. There he still acted on impulse, but it was pure animal reflex, none of it eliciting pleasure, and even then he thought. Sometimes, on the rare occasion, Oliver didn’t before doing something at all bad things happened. Very bad things. Like death. The things Oliver experienced changed him alot, in more ways than one. The one everyone noticed though was that he thought. The only reason he acted on impulse was to save his life, and at this point it wasn’t impulse, it was reflex. 

Now, as the vigilante, Oliver thought things through. He was slow and careful when planning, and went over it dozens and dozens of times, making sure there was no flaws or holes. Then he had Diggle, Diggle was an army man, he thought things through more times than Oliver and saw simple tactical flaws that Oliver missed.  

When Felicity came about he, for once, didn’t think, it was one of the only impulse moves he’s made since he became the vigilante. He knew he didn’t put the proper research into her. But he fled and hid in her car anyway because it was either that, arrest, or death. So if you really think about it Oliver did think. No one would have ever thought such a calculating mind was hiding behind the playboy persona, no one ever thought to look. 

Oliver felt an ever growing pull of attraction towards the quirky blonde IT girl, how could he not? She was always happy, hopeful, and she knew exactly what to say. The old Oliver would’ve already tried to get into her pants without even thinking. But he thought now, maybe a little too much. 

It was a simple, textbook mission. They needed to pull information on a human trafficker and drug smuggler named Henry Golden. It would be simple, Oliver would cause a distraction while Felicity would sneak into the office and upload the information they needed onto a flash drive. But it went south fast. 

It started when Felicity had been caught in the office. A guard found her in the office after they thought something was fishy. She was dragged into the main room where Oliver was by her hair, a gun held to her temple. 

Oliver disabled the guard quickly, but not before he had a chance to shoot Felicity in the stomach. The rest was a blur. He remembered Diggle barging in, forcing him to move. He remembered running into the foundry; he remembered Diggle stitching her up and telling him she was going to be fine. He remembered being told to go home and that Diggle could take care of her. But Oliver insisted on staying. He couldn’t leave her. 

So, here he was, gripping her hand tightly as he heart rate monitor rang out a steady beeping. The sedative should be wearing off soon and Oliver was forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

He soon felt her stirring, her fingers twitch in his grip. 

“Oliver?” she whispered groggily.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here,” Oliver replied quietly. 

Felicity started to sit up, but after feeling a spike of pain in her stomach she decided against it. 

“Note to self: do  _ not _ try to sit up after getting shot,” at least Oliver knew Felicity was really okay. A dry attempt at humor proved it. 

Oliver attempted to open his mouth and say “You should really be getting some rest,” but she cut him off before he could even make a sound. 

“Okay, this may be the drugs talking. God knows that even with all my babbling I would never say this out loud. But Oliver, I love you, goddamnit.” 

“Felicity, I don’t think-” he started before she cut him off again. 

“Yes, I’ve heard it before, ‘It’s too dangerous, and with what I do I don’t think it’s a good idea to be with someone I could really care about,’ blah blah blah. But come on Oliver! I do the same things that you do and my safety, just being myself, is a lot more at risk because you say my name! Any villain smart enough to make the connection is also smart enough to make an internet search for Felicitys in Starling with tech skills. Spoiler alert! There’s only one!” Felicity stopped mid-ranted, “Look, I strayed from my point. My point was- _ is _ \- that you think to much.” 

“No one has ever accused me of that before,” Oliver chuckled, trying to add an air of humor to the mood. 

“Well I’m your first,” Felicity froze, “I mean not your  _ first _ . Obviously not seeing as your reputation before the island, and as well as the fact that you slept with almost every girl you’ve met more than once since you’ve been back. And oh my god I just basically called you a man-whore.” 

“Felicity,” Oliver said, his voice full of warning, expressing the full  _ stay on track _ mood he wanted to get across. 

“Right. See this is my theory. You think to much. It’s what you’ve been conditioned to do these past five years. See, you’re an archer and a warrior. You guys are trained to have everything perfectly mapped in your head. You think, then act. But feelings aren't like that. Love isn’t like that. It can’t be controlled or planned. It’s not rational, and you most definitely cannot aim before you shoot. It’s more of a shoot, then aim, kind of deal,” Felicity explained, and Oliver cocked his head to the side in confusion. 

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but when you shoot an arrow you find your target, you aim, then you shoot. But that’s not how love works. You can’t just find someone and say ‘I’m gonna fall in love with them,’. You just do. The arrow has already been shot, the aim comes when you realize you’ve fallen in love,” Felicity said, “Do you get what I’m saying.” 

Oliver slowly nodded in comprehension, “Yeah, I get what you mean. You can’t anticipate it, you find it where you least expect it.” 

“So why are you so hell bent on fighting it?” Felicity asked, quite obviously fighting back tears. 

“Because I don’t know how! You said over the past five years I was forced to think, but I was also forced to detach myself from everyone and everything. It was the only way to live and when I got home I realized, I’ve forgotten how to love, Felicity,” Oliver told her quietly. 

“It’s because you haven’t let yourself try. If you let people in, let  _ me _ in,” she was crying now. 

“It’s-” but he was interrupted once again. Why? You may ask. Because Felicity’s lips were pressed against his in a violent, heated kiss. 

She gripped at he short hairs on his head and brought his head closer, her tongue begging entry. Oliver instinctively brought his hands up to the side of her face. 

Oliver broke away with a gasp, his breathing heavy.

“Felicity,” Oliver breathed out, “We’re gonna have to talk about this you know?” 

“Shoot then aim,” she whispered quietly.

  
Maybe Felicity was right. It’s best not to think. Maybe thinking wasn’t always the best way to go. Shoot then aim. 


	2. Do I know You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver thought Felicity looked kind of familiar when he first saw her during year three away. Felicity thought Oliver looked familiar when he walked into her office. Why? Because they met before the island. A.K.A three times Oliver and Felicity met before the island and didn’t know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I suck at these I'm just gonna tell you guys, I've created a new blog on tumblr so if you wish to send in a prompt or be updated or such go [here](http://writeallthecrap.tumblr.com/)  
> Don't use the old link, that's a link to my personal and I probably won't respond.

(since we don’t know the exact date the Gambit went down I’m improvising) 

 

ONE ---->  16. May, 2006

 

It was Oliver’s twenty first birthday, and Tommy insisted they fly to Vegas. That’s how he ended up in a casino at three am on a Tuesday night. It was also how he saw the small brunette typing furiously on a laptop. She kept glancing between a textbook and the computer, her eyes scanning the page before moving to type on the computer. She looked like a teenager, but Oliver couldn’t help but stare at her. She looked right at home in the casino booth, just a few booths from the bar, she wore sweatpants and a band t-shirt. Her chocolate colored hair pulled back into a ponytail, there was a pair of glasses resting on her thin nose, the blue reflection of the computer screen making the color of her eyes that much more intense. 

Tommy had disappeared off to who knows where, so he was by himself, waiting for the call from his scolding mother. He hadn’t exactly told her he was flying to Vegas that day. He  _ did _ say he was going out with some friends. Oliver tore his eyes off the brunette for a second to glance at his drink in his hands, it was half empty the way Oliver saw it. The Vegas nightlife had begun to simmer down, and Oliver was surprised he wasn’t kicked out. The place was empty, save the curvy blonde behind the bar top. She kept sending him mischievous smirks that were a bit more than slightly off putting.  

He looked back to the girl in the booth, and she was looking straight at him. Her mouth fell open slightly and she looked back to her computer screen, a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. Oliver couldn’t help but think how cute it looked on her.  But he also couldn’t help but think how hot behind the bar was. 

“Hey pretty thing? When does your shift end because I’d be more than happy to show you how to be a good time,” he slurred out to the bartender. 

“I’m sorry? What did you just say to me?” she asked, her voice loaded with attitude and anger. 

“Wh-what?” he was extremely confused, she had been smiling at him all night, had she not?  

Oh, so you think I smile past your shoulder a few times at my daughter it means I’m looking for a good time? I don’t work 80 hour weeks just to put my beautiful genius daughter in a decent school so I could be hit on by some stuck up rich kid who just turned twenty one,” she fired back again. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Oliver apologized, “I didn’t mean to-” 

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “It’s been a long night and there’s been this weird kid who’s hitting on my seventeen year old daughter.” 

Oliver glanced back at the girl in the booth and saw Tommy hitting on her. 

“Wait, that’s your daughter?” he didn’t know why he was carrying this conversation on. Usually he would’ve left, but the alcohol must have been affecting his normal thinking process. 

“Yep, best thing that’s ever happened, if you ask me,” the woman smiled fondly, “and that creep keeps hitting on her. Don’t get me wrong if I wasn’t a mom I would definitely be trying to get myself a piece of that ass. But he’s a little old for her.” 

“That’s my friend, I could probably pry him off of her,” Oliver suggested, and seriously, what the hell is wrong with him? Why is he still talking, if he wasn’t talking to her mother right now he would probably be over there with Tommy trying to convince her three isn’t a crowd and more fun. 

“It’s fine, she can take care of herself. Felicity’s a born and bred Vegas girl,” Oliver blinked, he just realized he heard her name for the first time. Felicity. He like the sound of it. As if on cue a sharp crack and loud groan from Tommy erupted. Oliver spun around and saw Tommy holding his nose and Felicity walking towards the booth with her things. 

“Hey mom, I’m headed home. I’ll call you when I get there,” she looked like she was about to say something else when she looked at Oliver. 

“I heard that guy is your friend, I think his nose is broken,” is all she said before leaving. Oliver had to admit, she was cool, and hot. In a nerdy kind of way. 

 

TWO---->  07. April, 2007 

He was running, fast, very fast. He didn’t know to look where he was going, he just knew he was running late. He just  _ knew _ his father would kill him if he was late, his father wanted him to take his rightful place in the company, but he didn’t want to. He was still going to please his parents, though. He didn’t register the black figure in front of him, he didn’t realize it until he slammed into it, he knocked it over and wound up on top of the unidentifiable object. 

“Ow!” it half yelled from beneath him, his eyes focused to see a small goth chick, and she looked pissed, “What the hell is wrong with you? I was just standing here! No need to barrel into me like a fucking wrecking ball,” Oliver didn’t move, he just stared at the girl beneath him. She looked young, maybe seventeen. She wore all black, black jeans, black tank top, black vest, she had black hair. The only things un-black about her was the silver cross looking necklace and her dark purple makeup, and she looked oddly familiar. “Stop staring and get the fuck off of me. Do I look like a doormat? And do not answer that, it’s rhetorical.” 

“What? Oh, yeah,” he pulled himself off of her.  “Sorry, uhhh,”

“You do not get name rights, last thing I need is a stalker,” she stood and started brushing her jeans off. Oliver couldn’t help but be drawn to this little beauty, she held herself confidently, and Oliver could tell this was a girl you did not want to make angry. 

“Yeah, probably should have known that, well, sorry again nameless goth chick I’ve run over,” he apologized. 

“Yeah, you should be,” she sent him a glare, “If I’m not crossing any boundaries, could I ask what you were running from?” The rough edged goth girl suddenly seemed like a very shy girl. 

“I wasn’t running  _ from _ something, I was running  _ to _ something.” 

“It doesn’t look like it,” she said, and upon seeing his confused face she expounded, “It’s just something about you, don’t get me wrong, you look amazing in the suit. It just doesn’t seem to fit quite right, metaphorically.” 

She was right. He didn’t, he didn’t want to be in the corporate world. He was a hands on kind of guy, he didn’t want to sit in an office all day. Even if it did have an incredible view overlooking the city. 

“You’re right, I don’t want to work in an office.” 

“Well then do it, and if you don’t know figure it out. Then make every step trying to do it. Don’t try to please everyone because in the end of the day they won’t care and you’ll just be very unhappy. Which leads to chronic drinking. Which is bad.”

Oliver chuckled. 

“You wouldn’t have the time would you?” she asked suddenly. 

“Uhh,” he glanced at his incredibly expensive watch, “2:30.”

“Shit,” she breathed, “Well I’ve got to go, but I hope this talk was very enlightening for you.” 

It was that meeting that changed his life. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, but at least now he could figure it out. 

 

THREE ----> 18\. June 2007

 

It had been two months since he plowed over the goth girl and she turned out to be very wise. He looked for her when he was out sometimes, he knew it was a long shot. But it was worth a shot. But so far nothing, he wasn’t particularly hopeful. Tonight it was him and Tommy at a club. Whisper, or something. All he knew was that he had knocked back four tequila shots and now he was grinding with a hot brunette. Tommy liked blondes, but everyone knew he had a thing for brunettes. 

He hadn’t really seen her face, but he knew she was hot. She was curvy, a nicely shaped ass, perky breasts. They weren’t huge, but he could definitely appreciate them. Her back was pressed flush against his front. He wasn’t really moving much, but she was moving up and down, pressing her ass against him, and jesus it felt good. He could feel the strain of his groin against his pants. She suddenly turned to face him. 

She kept the rhythm up, and pressed her lips to his. It was hot, and passionate. He didn’t hesitate when nibbling on her bottom lip, nor when it came to slipping his tongue into her mouth. She quietly moaned in pleasure and the sounded went straight to his cock. A small part of him tried to remind him he was technically dating Laurel still, but the other part could only think of how fucking good this kiss was. She tasted like scotch and chocolate, a strange, but hot, combination. 

He all but whimpered when Tommy pulled on his shoulder, turning him around and tearing him away from the brunette.  

“I hate to interrupt but Laurel just texted me that she’s on her way. Might be smart to ditch this hot piece of ass before she arrives,” Tommy whistled, “But damn she was hot. It’s a shame.”

Oliver didn’t say anything, he did turn back to the brunette. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I got to go, but could I get your number?” He couldn’t really see her face but she looked familiar. 

“Nope,” she walked away, leaving him alone, and Tommy trying not to laugh. 

It wasn’t until later when he tried to pay for drinks at the bar that he realized his wallet was gone. He had to find Tommy in the crowd to pick up the tab. He reluctantly agreed and grumbled something about not being such a clutz. 

The next day he also realized his watch was gone. His mother asked about it, he said he took it off to go to bed at hadn’t put it back on. 

A few hours after that incident did he realize what happened. He had been robbed. The girl robbed him. His guess was she wasn’t even eighteen yet. A vagrant pick pocket wandering the streets of Starling stealing from unsuspecting men. He thought he had been spot on until he received a text from someone named hottie <3\. 

_ Hottie <3  _

_ Sorry, I needed to buy my mom’s birthday gift. Not sorry about programming my number in your phone.  _

Oliver didn’t respond. He wasn’t going to. He wanted to delete her number from his phone, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. 

  
  
  


_ Sometime in the future  _

 

Oliver and Felicity were having a lazy Sunday. She was doing god knows what on the computer and he was reading. They were on the couch, his feet were on the coffee table, and she was wrapped in the soft throw with her feet in Oliver’s lap. It was raining and the whole thing was incredibly domestic. 

“Hey Oliver?” she said. 

“Yes, babe?” He sounded kind of exasperated. 

“Do you forgive me for stealing your wallet?” 

Oliver’s mind was suddenly thrown back all those years ago in the club. He had almost forgotten. 

“Yeah,” he smirked, “If you forgive me for running you over.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this was my attempt at writing sexy times, which I butchered completely. I'm sorry for that but I hope domestic Olicity at the end makes up for it.
> 
>  
> 
> I've created a new blog on tumblr so if you wish to send in a prompt or be updated or such go [here](http://writeallthecrap.tumblr.com/)  
> Don't use the old link, that's a link to my personal and I probably won't respond.


	3. Arrows in Pillows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara Diggle was raised in a wild family, that much she knew. She just didn't know the lengths they would go ton keep her out of harms way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, omg I've been obsessed with Sara Diggle growing old in the Team Arrow family. It's been my latest obsession. (especially her donning the Black Canary mantle)
> 
> This was written before LoT Star City episode so keep that in mind while reading. It was written before basically everything in season four happened.

 

Sara Diggle dashed through the house, her feet treading lightly as Uncle Oliver taught her. She didn't want to alert he parents of her presence. She just wanted to sit alone and be allowed to wallow in her pity without Mom giving her the ultimate interrogation until she cracked. But alas, her parent’s and their well trained senses heard her. She could see her dad's shadow coming out from around the kitchen corner, she knew he was coming. But there was nowhere to run to, she was cornered. At least it was Dad, he wasn't nearly as good at getting her to spill as Mom. 

“Sara?” he asked, worried, in the tone she knew he used when he thought someone was breaking in. Which if someone was it would be one of the worst houses in Star City to break in into. Between her mom, dad, and Sara herself it would take a small army to take them down. Sara knew too, she heard the stories. 

“Yes?” she tried to act like nothing was wrong, but she could tell he had already noticed her red rimmed eyes. 

“What's wrong? Is everything alright?” his worried tone increased by a tenfold. 

“Yeah, everything's fine. Why?” Sara lied. At fourteen years old she was a better liar than most politicians. It's what comes along with a family that keeps secrets for a living, and honorary aunts and uncles who fight crime and/or used to fight crime in Star City with her parents. Sara had been taught to keep secrets and lie at an early age, but her parents always saw right through her. 

“No it’s not.” Diggle said deflated, “What happened? Is everything alright?” Sara knew what was coming. Last time she had told her parents what was wrong they were dead serious when they asked if they needed to hurt anyone. Most parents say “who do I need to hurt?” as a joke, but Sara knew her parents were dead set on shooting someone if it meant she was happy. 

“Did anything happened here?” Sara skirted around the question just as she was taught. Sara wasn't about to tell her dad, a man who always kept a gun on him, that the school’s resident popular was bullying her. She wasn't about to tell her dad all the nasty names she was called, because she was sure there would be at least one arrow shot for her sake. Uncle Oliver may have put down the bow, but Uncle Roy was around. She had heard the stories, how he sacrificed his life to save Star City, which had been called Starling at the time. Even though he didn't die he gave up everything that made him happy, and disappeared. Aunt Felicity tracked him down a few years ago, and he'd been around ever since, cleaning up the streets as the new green hooded vigilante, reverting back to Oliver’s old costume and name, the Arrow. The name had become somewhat of an urban legend throughout the years. It seemed like a good legacy to carry on. 

“No, now stop avoiding the question. Don't make me call your mother,” Diggle warned. Sara knew she had to give an answer quick. She may have been from a family of spies and vigilantes, but she cracked under pressure. 

“I just fell off my bike the way home!” she blurted, wincing at the lie, “I hit a curb and stuck my hand out to catch myself, but I landed on it funny,” Diggle seemed to buy the lie. 

“Do you want me to take a look at it?” Sara knew of his medical training, it wasn't much, but it had saved lives on multiple occasions. 

“No it’s fine,” she waved him off. She should've just done the logical thing and snuck in through her bedroom window. 

“We know that wasn't a question,” Diggle lifted her hand and began inspecting it. “Looks fine, no broken bones, I don't think it's sprained. You're sure you fell off your bike?” He would soon realize she never even rode her bike to school that day. Her dad reluctantly let her up the stairs, but she could hear him dialing a number on his phone. 

 

Sara flopped onto her bed, tossing her backpack into the corner and taking out her phone. She studied the small black rectangle. She remembers the stories her Aunt Felicity would tell her, about how everyone thought cell phones would be projected holograms onto flesh, but Felicity always said she knew better. They would stay the same, the hardware being updated so it a lot more powerful obviously. When Sara looked at her aunts and uncles they never looked old to her, but she knew they were. She knew her parents were already in her fifties, but she also knew they could've passed as early forties based on their physical health. She also knew Uncle Oliver was in his forties, but he looked in tip top shape. Sara would admit to blushing the few times she saw him shirtless. Felicity said it used to be even better. Sara was so lost in thought she almost forgot about the names she had been called earlier. Then her mother was knocking on her door, it wasn't a way of asking of coming in, it was to say,  _ I'm coming in whether you like it or not. At least make yourself decent if you wish.  _ She never did think of her parents as harsh, they were pretty laid back and fun at times, others they acted like everything was a threat. But Sara knew there was times in their lives that were. 

“Hey honey,” Lyla said, opening the door and stepping in. “Your dad told me something was wrong, said I was better equipped to deal with it,” 

“Nothing's wrong,” Sara denied. 

“You can say that as many times as you like but I know it's not true.” Her mom turned solid, now it was time for interrogation mode. Joy. 

“But it is mom, everything's fine. I swear,” Sara stood to face her mom. Putting her hands on her mother's shoulders. “If it's not fine you'll be the first to know,” 

Surprisingly her mom backed down. 

“Okay,” she sighed, “Do you have a lot of homework?” 

“Actually I have no homework,” 

“Then you wouldn't mind helping me make dinner,” Lyla left the room, knowing the teen would make her way down after her. Lyla must have seen right through her lie, but Sara didn't realize that, not until the next day at least. 

 

“Did you hear?” her best friend, Cassie, asked immediately when Sara sat at the table. It was homeroom, and only one of two classes Sara had with her. 

“Margaret Bither supposedly had a visit from the Arrow last night. She says he left her a note, stuck to her pillow with one of his arrows.” as soon as the words left Cassie’s mouth Sara was angry, of course Dad told Felicity, and Felicity tracked down what was happening, and of course Felicity told Roy, and of course Roy felt the need to help her. As good as their intentions were, Sara was sure they made her problems worse. She didn't have to read the note but she was positive it said something like “Stay away from Sara Diggle,” written across it in Roy's very own sloppy scrawl. 

“Really?” Sara pretended to be interested, even though she was pretty sure Roy would have a stern yelling at, one he would smile through the whole time because “it was cute, like all the times Felicity would scold me” as he said one time. 

“Oh yeah! She won't tell anyone what the note said though,” Cassie turned her head as Margaret walked in. Her head usually held high was walking with her shoulders turned in and head down. Sara was ready for the coming onslaught, but it never came. 

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of those things,” Margaret apologized quietly to Sara before making her way to her usual seat. 

“The Arrow must have really scared her.” Cassie commented. Sara didn't respond, she also didn't fight the large grin that was pulling up on her face. “What are you smiling about? Sorry doesn't fix anything. I still say we put nair in her shampoo.” Cassie proclaimed.

“No it’s fine. I have a feeling she won't mess with me again,” Sara beamed, maybe her family could get annoying with how over protective they are, but sometimes they were pretty damn cool. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Don't forget I've got a tumblr where you can send in prompts and be updated on my latest projects! Just click [here](http://writeallthecrap.tumblr.com/)


	4. Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soulmate marks AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about not posting for a while but my laptop was in for repairs and I really don't like writing on my phone and I don't even know if you can add chapters to mobile Ao3. But I'm kinda back now. I guess. I'm also really sorry about this being so short, I have a lowkey case of writer's block.

  
  


Oliver knew of the soulmate marks, they were taught about it in school. Everyone had the soulmate marks, defining marks, little words or phone numbers. Him? Weird combinations of ones and null symbols in place of zeroes, small scars up his legs, weird words that he had no idea what they meant; he despised every single one of them with a burning passion. They began showing up over the years, starting at age three, that’s when the first scar showed up, a small disfigured oval on his left knee. 

 

Felicity Smoak also knew of the soulmate marks, it was common knowledge. But she also happened to harbour a misplaced hatred and disbelief in soulmates. Might have been because she was bitter because she never received any marks, not one. She completely disregarded the matter, there was no such thing as soulmates, destiny, it was all one big coincidence that people let control their lives. 

 

When Oliver began to fall in love with Laurel Lance, a long time best friend, he began to hate the soulmate marks, they still showed up, Laurel getting her own. But he  _ really _ loved Laurel, how could there be anyone else for him? Why was there anyone else for him? He lost faith all together, maybe they really are “A really big coincidence that people let control their lives.” as a small brunette in Vegas told him. What he failed to notice was the line of binary up her arm, identical to his, which was hidden by his sleeve. 

 

After the Gambit went down Oliver began to stop hating his soulmate marks and began finding comfort in them. He knew even though he could try Laurel would never forgive him, she was too stubborn. He knew if he made it off the island alive there was someone out there for him. 

 

Felicity didn’t get her first soulmate mark until she was eighteen. A grotesque scar forming on her chest, the marred flesh brought Felicity a small bit of relief, she had a soulmate. But it brought her even more sorrow because her soulmate, whoever they were, was in incredible pain, and she couldn’t do anything about it. 

 

Oliver’s soulmate marks slowly began to disappear over the years, showing up less and less until they disappeared all together. He felt a pang in his chest as he watched the last one wear away; there was also a bitter sorrow, his time on the island, the forging of him into a monster probably severed the connection. When he got off there would be no one waiting for him. 

  
  


She couldn’t stand it, she just had to watch, watch as her soulmate marks appeared in the form of horrible scars, and she couldn’t do a thing about it, she couldn’t help. Three years into receiving the marks a string of chinese appeared on her abdomen, she tried looking it up, but no one had translations. It was meaningless garbage, and she began to despise the idea of soulmate marks even more. 

 

When Oliver returned home to Starling everything felt foreign, but his soulmate marks started to slowly reappear. They came in slowly, little notes, nothing distinguishing. Until one afternoon a phone number appeared on his hand. He didn't hesitate in calling it. 

 

“Ollie?” Thea asnwered. 

 

He stayed silent. 

 

“Ollie, what do you want?” she sighed, “I know you’re there.” 

 

“You haven’t happened to write your phone number on anyone’s hand recently?” 

 

“I have actually,” he could hear her smile, “Her name was Felicity Smoak. She works in the IT department at Queen Consolidated.” 

 

Oliver hung up. Luck was on his side and he had the perfect excuse to go down to the IT department. Recently he acquired a shot up laptop and needed information from it. Perfect. Now he just needed a proper reason for having a laptop covered in bulletholes. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Send in prompts](http://writeallthecrap.tumblr.com/ask)


	5. Walk of Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity isn't a stranger to one night stands, but she is a stranger to the walk of shame.

It was early in the morning and Felicity made another vow that she would never drink tequila again. She knew it was a lie, she made that vow twice this week. But it was also the first time this week she had woken up in someone else's apartment. 

It was definitely  _ not _ the first time she had a one night stand. She was no stranger to clubs and parties; she was an avid partier, traveling in only the finest party circuits. But she was the kind to leave after the other fell asleep, as to avoid this exact situation. Felicity was often called a slut by strangers, but frankly she didn’t give two shits. She liked parties and sex, is that a sin? Well, the Bible said it was, semantics. 

 

Since Felicity would always leave after her partner for the night fell asleep she had never participated in the walk of shame before. Thank god Felicity Smoak always woke up when the sun rose, no matter how little sleep she had gotten. 

“Shit,” Felicity whispered when she sat up in the foreign room. She looked to her latest conquest sleeping heavily next to her, “Shit, shit, shit, shit,  _ fucking shit. _ ” 

 

She really fucked up this time. Sure, he had been hot, sure he claimed to be Channing Tatum, and she still slept with him even though she knew he was lying. She slung her feet over the edge of the bed and lightly padded through the room, collecting her clothes as she went. Felicity pulled the loose red blouse over her head and began to regret her decision of wearing the leather pants. (Then again they made her ass look fantastic, but on the same point maybe if her ass hadn’t looked so fantastic she would be at home right now)

 

Grabbing her boots she made a quick scan around the room to check for lost items. Her bra and panties were long gone, but the thing she was most worried about was her phone. She just got it, it was brand new. She was about to round the bed when her one night stand (for the life of her she could not remember his name, the only word her mind was supplying was eggplant) grunted, and she froze in her place. It was only a false alarm, he heaved a sigh a rolled over. 

She quickly crept around the bed and found her phone under a pair of Eggplant’s (if she couldn't remember his name he was going to be forever marked in history as Eggplant) jeans. Stashing the phone in her boot, she opened the door and shut it silently behind her; the click barely audible. She deserved a medal for her stellar ninja skills she had going on right now. Felicity thanked her lucky stars that Eggplant was a heavy sleeper. Contemplating taking the elevator, Felicity realized it was really in her best interest to take the stairs. 

 

Felicity winced when the door to the stairwell slammed shut, but ignored it and barrelled on. She ran down the stairs at lightning speed, the concrete cold against her barefeet. And, dear god, why did Eggplant have to live on the top floor? She felt like she had gone down a hundred flights of stairs, but one look at the red twenty-two painted on the cinderblock told her otherwise. She had only gone down three floors. Felicity sprinted down three more floors before she stopped to catch her breath and decided the stairs weren’t worth the effort. Even if it did mean not getting caught. 

After re entering the hallway Felicity immediately regretted her decision. Why? Because waiting for the elevator to show up an incredibly hot guy was standing. Definitely hotter than Eggplant.  She went to go back into the stairwell, after changing her mind yet again, but the door was stuck, and he saw her. He didn’t look like he was faring much better than her. May as well face her fears. 

And it was  _ true _ . Oliver wasn’t faring much better than the pretty blonde he just saw. He realized today was going to suck ass when he woke up in someone’s bed who  _ wasn’t  _ his girlfriend, and it wasn’t even the first time it happened. It had happened twice before, this month. Oliver was afraid of commitment, everyone knew that, especially Laurel. Laurel also knew that he was a cheater, better than anyone.  

 

_ Probably around the same time Felicity woke up, or slightly after.  _

When Oliver woke up in leggy brunette’s bed this morning he shrugged it off. Quite literally. The girl was attached to him like a magnet. Most people would be afraid to move incase they might wake up, but Oliver knew she had enough alcohol in her to keep her out til noon. Oliver thanked his lucky stars he got up at the crack of dawn every morning. Only on occasions like this, not so much when he had just gotten home from a rough night of partying with Tommy. 

 

His one night stand (he was pretty sure her name was Liz) was draped across the bed, still naked from last night’s activities. He was kind of ashamed to leave her. Not because Liz would just be a one night stand, because she was fucking gorgeous. With her long legs, tan skin, and perky breasts, she was the closest thing to his dream girl he ever met. It wasn’t surprising that she was a model. 

 

He only bothered to pull on his pants and slip into his button down, not bothering to button it, before grabbing his phone and slipping out the door. As he made his way down the hallway he texted Tommy. He knew his best friend would cover for him should he need him to, and now he needed him to. 

 

_ Oliver: to Tommy  _

_ If Laurel asks I stayed over at your house last night  _

 

Oliver waited impatiently for the reply as he made his way down the hallway. He knew he should probably take the stairs, but he did not have it in him today. His phone buzzed and he groaned when he saw the name. 

 

_ Laurel: to Oliver _

_ Where were u last night????? _

 

He groaned inwardly, Laurel knew. She didn’t say it, but he knew she was at least suspicious. His phone buzzed again. 

 

_ Laurel: to Oliver _

_ Tommy said u were at his house. How was it? _

 

Damnit! She knew for sure! 

 

_ Tommy: to Oliver _

_ Dude.  _

 

_ Laurel is asking questions but i told her u stayed at my house  _

 

Thank god Tommy played along. 

 

_ Oliver: to Tommy  _

_ Good.  _

 

_ Oliver: to Laurel  _

_ Hey babe. Look, I know it seems suspicious but it wasnt. I swear. Scouts honor  _

 

_ Laurel: to Oliver  _

_ You were never a boy scout. _

 

_ Were gonna talk later. _

 

Oliver cursed silently and wondered what was taking that damned elevator so long when he heard a bang of the stairwell door. Shit. He turned and saw a small blonde girl trying to head back into the stairwell but it seemed the door was stuck. She silently walked and stood next to him, obviously joining him in his pre-walk of shame-walk of shame. She must be an early riser like him, or she just never fell asleep.  

 

An awkward, yet fitting, silence hung in the air. Oliver’s eyes swung up and down her body. She was short, stubby legs, tangled blonde hair, smeared lipstick, smudged eyeliner, nothing special. But she had a certain pull about her, like she was pure sunshine. He couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor dope she left. The magnetism he felt towards her caused him to do one of the most embarrassing things he’d ever done at the time. 

 

“Hi, I’m Oliver,” he held out her hand and she stared at him in shock. She didn’t say anything.

“Did you just introduce yourself?” she asked incredulously. 

“Uh, yeah?” 

“This is not happening!” she half screeched, quietly of course as not to wake up the neighbor. 

“Uh, what’s not happening?” he knew she was probably referring to another walk of shame participant asking for her name, but he had to play stupid to keep up appearances. 

“I’m dreaming,” she whispered to herself quietly, closing her eyes, “You’re going to open your eyes and you’ll be in your nice cozy bed. Yeah, just a nightmare.” 

She opened her eyes and looked at Oliver and groaned. She looked like she was about to say something, but she was interrupted by the ding of the elevator as the doors opened. 

“Go ahead,” he said. 

“You can go, I’ll take the next one,” she waved her hand in an act of dismissal. 

“But, see, I can’t let you do that. I was raised to put ladies first, it’s polite,” he flirted “Especially if they’re pretty, like you.” 

“I’ll share the elevator with you, but that’s not allowed,” she stepped in the elevator.

“What?” he asked, following her into the elevator. 

“Flirting. Big no-no. Especially because we’re both running from one night stands,” she said. 

Oliver stayed silent during the elevator ride, which lasted about a minute until a loud bang sounded and the whole cabin shook. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he yelled, bracing himself against the wall to steady himself. 

“Ditto,” the blonde said forcefully. 

It took one look at the LED display to know that the elevator broke down. They were currently stuck between floors twelve and thirteen. Oliver wordlessly pressed the emergency button. 

“I think this might be the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me,” Felicity whispered to herself under her breath. 

“Ditto,” Oliver returned in the same manner she said her’s mere seconds before. 

“Oh, wow. You heard that,” she said, sounding surprised, “Although this probably isn’t the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me. Because, well, I mean. I’m me. That one time in tenth grade when I accidently wandered into the boy’s locker room while they were changing after lacrosse practice, that’s probably the most embarrassing thing ever. Or maybe that one time-” 

“Miss!” Oliver cut off the blonde’s babble, “Please, I don’t need to know about everything embarrassing that’s happened in your life.” 

“Sorry,” she said meekly, “It’s just when I’m nervous I talk alot.” 

“Really?” Oliver’s voice rang with a noticeable sarcasm that was just a hint offensive. Probably because he was stuck in an elevator and was feeling extremely peeved and just a tad worried. After noticing the look on her face he softened. 

“I’m so-”

“No, it’s fine. I get it,” she started quickly and cut him off, “Probably wished you were stuck in an elevator with someone other than me, an annoying girl who can’t seem to shut up.” 

“It’s not that,” he sighed, “Well, kinda. But mostly I’m annoyed at myself.” 

Felicity quirked her head to the side, so Oliver expounded. 

“I cheated on my girlfriend,” he admitted, “And I have no clue why I just told you that. But I did. Her name’s Laurel, and she’s amazing and the best part of me, and I have no clue what to do.” 

“Well that sounds like a pretty bad situation you got yourself into,” Felicity observed, “But you know that saying about the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? It’s the same with girl’s. At least it is with me. I suggest you go to her with flowers, mint chip ice cream, and some Big Belly Burger.” 

“Well, um, that’s better than any plan I had.” 

“Trust me. Every girl loves burgers, and if she says she doesn’t she lying,” Felicity said.

Oliver was about to respond when the elevator stuttered back to life and began it’s decent. 

“Hey, sorry about that,” a voice rang through an intercom, “Is everyone okay?” 

“Yeah,” Oliver said, “Everything’s fine.” 

“Good,” intercom man said back. 

Another fifteen seconds and Oliver’s feet were firmly planted on the lobby floor, and felt the need to thank the mysterious blonde. 

“Hey,” he grabbed her shoulder lightly and turned her towards him, “Thanks, for the advice,  and for not judging me, Miss…” 

“Smoak.Felicity Smoak.” she replied, “And it’s no problem really. It wasn’t much.” 

“Thank you, Felicity,” he smiled. 

“You’re welcome, Oliver,” she replied, also smiling. 

“How did you- right. Famous. Good-bye, Felicity. It was a pleasure,” he waved to her before walking out. 

“Ditto,” she whispered under her breath. 


	7. Role Reversal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Felicity is the vigilante, Oliver's the tech guy, and it's legit pure crack I swear   
> (Not gonna lie it's v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v v bad. I did write it like a year and a half ago ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly if there were any people out there who like the drabbles I was posting, thank you. I'm also very sorry that I haven't updated in a while. But I do actually want to say I'm sorry because like, I haven't posted in twelve years. I do this thing where I never finish anything I started and damn writings a lot of work when I have inspiration, but when I go to actually type it, the idea dies. So ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Talk to me Oliver,” Felicity growled into her comms system. She was in the middle of a high-speed chase, a chase where the chasee disappeared, and it was Oliver’s job to find him. He had been Felicity Smoak’s hot techie who would find the location of the bad guys so Felicity could catch them as the “Arrow” as the media dubbed her. 

“He’s scrambling his signal! I can’t find him!” he reported back, “Wait, got him! He’s turning onto third, make a right and cut through the plaza,” 

Felicity maneuvered her motorcycle up and down the steps before exiting on the street, the black van now in sight. 

“Gotcha!” she whispered. She was pulling up behind the truck, not noticing the gun aimed at her as she was surrounded from the behind. It wasn’t until she heard the rounds being fired in which she realized what was going on. 

_ BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!  _

The shots rang in almost a rhythmic way, and Felicity felt a bullet hit her bike. Felicity also  heard her tires blow, and she was thrown into a pile of trash as she tried to turn a corner. The bike smashing into a wall. 

_ Guess who’s walking home. Again.  _

“Felicity!” Oliver panicked on the other end. 

“I’m fine,” she groaned, sitting up from the pile of trash bags. “Nevermind,” she winced when she felt her ribs and shoulder explode in pain. 

“Do you need me to come get you?” It was Diggle this time. Felicity was sure Oliver was already pacing around the Arrowcave and pulling out medical supplies, being the worrywart he was. 

“Yeah, that would be helpful. Can’t exactly take a cab, ‘hey can you take me to the Arrowcave?’ yeah no.” Felicity stood and looked for a street sign, “I’m on the corner of fifth and third. I’ll be the only green leather covered psychopath hiding in the garbage,” 

Felicity could’ve sworn she heard Oliver laugh, something that was new. Usually when she came back after a reckless night she would receive a good scolding on how she should be more careful and needed to stay safe. 

Felicity patiently waited in the garbage for Diggle to show, she made friends with the rats and had named them all and was halfway done with Roberto’s backstory by the time Diggle showed. Seriously, speed was vital when doing something like this. She was pretty sure she could walk home quicker, but she wouldn’t want that attention. Oliver threw open the door and motioned for her to jump in. 

“What took you guys so long?” Felicity sounded more annoyed than she should have considering the fact that she probably bruised her ribs, also she was bleeding somewhere, she wasn’t quite sure where; also because she would have to get a new bike after all of this was over. 

Oliver started to feel around her chest checking for injuries. Any other man doing this Felicity would drop kick his ass into the next county, but this was Oliver, one of her most trusted friends. He didn’t see her as anything other than a friend, Felicity will admit, there had been times she wished he would see her in a less than platonic way; sure there was the times he had been caught staring at her while she was training. But he was probably looking at her scars and tattoos.

“Okay, doesn’t seem to be any broken bones, but you do have a nasty gash on your shoulder. Definitely gonna need stitches,” Oliver pointed out. 

“Great, I had this charity my mom’s making me go to, now I have to find a high neckline dress with sleeves that doesn’t look like a granny dress,” Felicity groaned. 

_ #justvigilantethings No. 137 Not being able to wear the halter dress you bought because you lost a high speed chase and ripped open your shoulder _

“Good luck, Ms. Smoak still scares me, and not just because she’s the one paying me,” Diggle added from the front. 

“She’s not scary.” 

“She’s a different type of scary, very loud and colorful. Always happy, very unsettling.” 

“Hey! You’re coming with me don’t forget! Since you’re my bodyguard and all.” Felicity said “And if you even try to sneak away I will kick your ass” she added.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Diggle chuckled, “You really need to find yourself a better piece of arm candy,” 

Oliver knew Diggle was referring to him, he was the only one who knew about Oliver’s more than complicated feelings for Felicity. Not by choice of course, Oliver didn’t tell him, he figured it out all on his own, damn him and his ultra perceptiveness. 

Felicity shifted in her seat awkwardly, “Yeah, I’m not really good at the whole ‘dating’ thing, not nearly as good at flirting as I was before the island,” 

“McKenna Hall is proof of that,” Diggle snorted. 

“Who’s McKenna Hall?” Oliver asked, suddenly interested. He felt like an outsider staring in, even though he joined the crusade almost a year ago he sometimes still felt like there was many things they missed. He was only told after Felicity had lost a battle against the Dark Archer, A.K.A Malcolm Merlyn,  mere weeks before the Undertaking.

“This chick Felicity had the biggest crush on, Felicity was just too chicken to ask her out,” Diggle explained.

Oliver’s eyebrows rose, if Felicity was into girls he didn’t have any form of a chance. 

“I’m not chicken, I’m just…” Felicity trailed off, not knowing what to say. 

“Scared,” Diggle supplied. 

“Biding my time.” Felicity decided on, “I can’t be with anyone is I can’t share all of me, so until I’ve finished righting my father’s wrongs I’m strictly single,” 

“Really? What about Carter Bowen? You had no problem shacking up with him for a few days,” 

Oliver felt himself breathe a sigh of relief, she  _ was _ into guys. 

“Only because he has a low body fat percentage and his face is rather symmetrical and aesthetically pleasing, guy’s a douche,”  Felicity slumped into her seat as the car rolled to a stop at Verdant. Felicity was he first one in the basement, already on the medical table and removing her  _ very tight _ green leather jacket. Oliver resisted the urge to do a double take when she peeled off her tank top, sticky with sweat and minimal amounts of blood, almost none of it was her own. Oliver, no matter how many times he saw them, was still fascinated by her numerous scars and tattoos. The most interesting one was the dragon on her shoulder; he never asked of it’s significance, but he knew it meant something important. 

“You checking me out, Queen?” she joked as she opened the antiseptic cloth and began dabbing at the wound. She winced when the alcohol made contact with the open flesh. 

“Here, let me help you,” he rushed to her side and took the cloth in his hands, lingering just a little too long on her fingers. 

“Thanks,” she breathed, her vision became a little blurred, probably due to blood loss. 

“Can’t have my favorite vigilante bleeding out on me, now can I?” he started to stitch the gash on her shoulder. 

They sat in silence as Oliver thread the needle in and out of her flesh, he cut the string and looked triumphant when done. 

“All finished! Now I’ve just got to bandage you up and you can go to whatever, Smoak Industries thing your mom’s roped you into this time,” Oliver already began the bandages, wrapping the cloth around her shoulder tightly. 

“Yeah, I might just not go out of shame, I don’t think I could find a dress where I  _ don’t  _ look like a grandma,” Felicity snorted. 

“I don’t think you could ever look like a grandma,” Oliver gave. 

“Get a room.” Diggle joked as he descended the stairs, “We brought you on board so you can help us, not so you can flirt with Felicity.”  Diggle winked at him. “As for you Felicity, how about that  white swing dress with the lace, the half sleeved one.” 

“Since when did you become so dress savvy?” Felicity asked as she pulled a t-shirt on over her freshly stitched body. “If you’re referring to the vintage inspired one it will do nicely.” 

“Well I’ll be upstairs, ready when you are Miss Smoak,”

Felicity grabbed a pair of pants and disappeared into the small backroom Diggle insisted they set up.  (Felicity, you’re a lady, you should be able to change without us looking on.) 

When she exited Oliver was already back at the computer, fingers flying across the keyboard, eyes focused on whatever he was doing. Felicity approached him from behind. 

“Hey, Oliver, go home,” she said softly. He jumped and let out a small yelp. 

“Don’t do that,” 

“Do what?” 

“Appear,” he waved his hands and he swiveled to face her.

“Sorry, but I’m being serious, you don’t need to stay, Diggle and I won’t be here. Take a night off.” Felicity put a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t forget to take care of yourself,” 

“I will, just after I’m done running these updates,” Oliver nodded.

“Nope, I know you. After the updates are done you’ll rebuild the firewall, and then you will try to redo the server, then you’ll try and pick up a new case, and next thing you know it’s morning. Don’t push yourself,”

“You do,” 

“Yeah, but I’m not the best example of a healthy lifestyle. I go out and _shoot arrows_ _at bad guys_ during my nights. I partake in high speed chases and shootings on a daily basis. I mean, talk about mental, never use me as an example for _anything_. Unless it’s being mentally unstable or super ninja-y. Scratch that, never use me as an example of being mentally unstable, just super ninja-y.” Felicity breathed outward heavily, “All babbling aside, go home, do something. It’s still relatively early, only like seven, do something,” 

“Because sitting on my couch and watching Netflix is  _ sooo _ much better.” 

“To me it is. I would much rather be doing that than go to this stupid gala,” she stopped like she suddenly had a brilliant idea, “Why don’t you come with me?” 

“Me?” he clarified. 

“Yes! It will be perfect!” she exclaimed, “You can keep me from making a total idiot out of myself and you can get some one on one time with board members and such.” 

“Me?” he asked again, “Plain me?” 

“Yes, look, as Digg said, I need a more impressive piece of man-candy and you fit the bill,” she said, “And oh my god I’m so sorry that was really offensive.”

“It’s okay,” Oliver assured her, “But I’m still not going.”  

“Unwittingly hurtful comments aside, I still want you to come with me.” 

“Fine,” sighed. 

  


An hour later Felicity and Oliver had arrived at the Smoak Industries charity gala of the week. Oliver was staring in awe at the magnificent decor of the Starling Observatory, Everything exudes “understated charm and elegance”, which Donna Smoak also seemed to exude. 

“Felicity! There you are honey!” her mother embraced her in a tight hug. Obviously acting very different than the powerful business woman Oliver knew her to be. 

“Hi mom,” Felicity said, looking pained. 

“Oh, and who’s this?” Donna asked. 

“Mom, this is Oliver,” Felicity said, pulling on Oliver’s arm slightly. 

“Hello Ms. Smoak, I’m Oliver Queen, pleasure to meet you,” he held out his hand to be shook. 

“Well, hello Oliver,” Donna greeted cheerily as she grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously, “Very happy Felicity has finally decided to get back out in the game,” she dropped her voice, “It’s been awhile since she’s had anyone play her lady harp.” 

“Mom!” Felicity shrieked, “Oliver and I are just friends.” 

“With benefits?” she asked. 

“No, afraid not Ms. Smoak. Just friends,” Oliver interjected. There was a small smile on his face, when he sees Ms. Smoak on the cover of magazines for being the World’s Most Powerful Woman, he would never imagine her being this… however he could describe her. 

“It’s a shame.” 

“Well, mom, Oliver and I would like to go mingle. So goodbye,” Felicity hastily turned and pulled Oliver with her.

“Why doesn’t she ever shut up?” Felicity muttered under her breath once they sat down at a table. 

“What happened to mingling?” Oliver questioned. 

“I don’t mingle. My people skills have always been, less than perfect,. With, you know, my chronic foot mouth disease and inappropriate babbling. I was never groomed for this, ” she shook her head, “I need a drink. Or someone to hit, or shoot. Maybe all three. Although those three probably don’t mix”

Oliver noticed the way Felicity brought her forefinger and thumb together and pressed tightly, as if she was looking for a bowstring to pull back. He also noticed how she looked away from him. 

“Hey, look at me” he put his hand on her chin and tilted her head towards him, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s stupid,” she shook her head again. 

“No it’s not. You’re crying,” he said softly, and sure enough when she touched her cheek it was wet with tears. 

“It’s just,” she sighed, “The last time I was at one of these things with someone was when I was here with Tommy.” 

Oliver knew all about Tommy. Tommy Merlyn was a fellow trust fund baby and they were best friends, until Tommy was killed in the crossfire between Felicity and the Dark Archer, who turned out to be Tommy’s father. Oliver never met Tommy before he died, but he knew him and Felicity were like siblings. 

“I’m sorry,” he cooed, bringing her close to him and he could feel her stiffen in his arms, “What happened?” he asked, panicked. 

“I think a few of my stitches just popped out,” she whispered, “I need to go redo them.” 

“Where exactly do you plan on redoing your stitches?” 

“The bathroom?” she tried, and upon seeing the look on his face she expounded  “No, you’re right. That won’t work. Follow me.” 

She stood and grabbed his hand in a iron grip. She dragged him to the back of the ballroom before pulling him into a door marked as a storage closet. It was a large room, probably the size of Oliver’s bedroom, and it was filled with stacked chairs, table clothes, and very fancy looking dish sets. The space you could actually move around in was very limited though, just enough for Oliver to work with. 

Felicity turned around, her back facing him, and motioned to the zipper. 

“Little help?” 

“Yeah, sure,” he pulled down the zipper and his breath caught when he saw the lacy black bra strap underneath. 

_ Hold it together, Queen.  _ He told himself. 

“Thanks,” she slipped her arm out from her sleeve and pulled enough of the dress down to expose the bandage. 

Oliver very carefully peeled away the bandage and saw about half the stitches had come out. At this moment he realized also that he was ogling her. Staring at her breasts. 

“Oliver!” she whisper yelled, “If you want to stare at my boobs do it some other time,” Felicity cringed at herself, “Sorry, you were just checking the injury, my mouth kind of does it’s own thing.” 

“Uh?” 

“Says! Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I have issues,” Felicity leaned her head forward and put her head in her palms, “So many issues.” 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm going to apologize for the grammar, but I wrote this before I knew of proper grammar when writing dialogue. Also guys, idk I think this is just gonna be the last one I post because any drabbles I start I always have a hard time finishing so any of y'all who were sitting here waiting for another chapter (lol let me know if you were bcuz id b laughing) this is probs gonna b the last one.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! I recently took a look at all of the incomplete drabbles I have written so I've decided to put my copious amounts of free time to good use. This is a drabble collection where I will be writing and posting all of the drabbles I write from here on out. I will be accepting prompts [here](http://writeallthecrap.tumblr.com/) '
> 
> (I would really appreciate it if you wouldn't mind sharing this)


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